Say That You Love Me
by suspensegirl
Summary: Alternate 3x22 Ending - Blair finds Chuck after walking out on him. "I thought you didn't love me anymore." Her damn heart always got in the way. Oneshot. *for those who didn't find the CJB interaction as big a deal as it was made out to be*


A/N: Despite the general consensus on what went down between Chuck, Jenny & Blair in the Season 3 finale, I have a somewhat different opinion from what I'm guessing is the majority (and certainly what the show is pushing). I don't think Chuck sleeping with Jenny was the smartest move he's ever made – _obviously_ – but I don't think it was worth going to such extremes as demanding he be out of Blair's life. From what I've gathered, the sides are just about even on who feels strongly about what (amongst the viewers). This fic is for all of those out there who agree with me – it was a stupid decision on his part, but should not have been exaggerated as much as it was. Context is everything, so to speak. If you don't agree with this view or how I write the story, please don't give me hate mail. I warned you ahead of time exactly where this story would be coming from.

**SPECIAL DEDICATION**: **annablake** – you reminded me that it _is_ possible to go against the flow, despite how powerful and impossible it may seem.

*I own nothing. No copyright infringement intended.

…

She couldn't find him. He wasn't in the penthouse when she went to search him out hours later. She scoured his most popular hideaways –bars, clubs, somewhere with Nate.

"_No, I haven't seen him Blair_," Nate had said. She'd sighed and hung up the phone before he could start asking questions. He clearly knew nothing, but might have had a nagging conscience at hearing the way in which she spoke her words. He was on his way to meet with Serena though. Blair decided not to blame him for his inattentiveness. As far as he knew, she and Chuck had made up. She decided against breaking the news to him. After all, there was a possibility things might not be broken for long.

It was her heart, she cursed herself. Her _damn heart_ always got in the way. The images her mind had concocted of her Chuck and that manipulative _bitch_, Jenny, had taunted her and made her feel all sorts of horrific emotions. She'd sat on her bed, shaking. She'd been beyond warm but feeling completely chilled to the bone, like she had the flu. She'd cried long and hard, had been so angry her teeth clenched down fiercely on the thin lining of her silk pillowcase and teared. He had betrayed her once again. She'd known Jenny Humphrey could have never been anything but trouble. It hadn't felt that way when they first met, but somewhere in the back of her mind, the conclusion permanently resided. Still, _Chuck_ had done it. He'd given her an ultimatum, a _time frame_ that she'd just barely missed, and he'd slept with _her_.

Logic and common sense told her to leave him in the dust, maybe to even regret the last two years of her life. The only bonus to getting involved with Chuck may have just been seeing the light at the end of the tunnel that she and Nate truly weren't meant to be. But that was it. Her heart didn't settle well with that conclusion. It screamed to her in several different annoying pitches that she could never regret falling in love with Chuck and insisting on a boyfriend-girlfriend relationship. She'd conquered some huge intimidating fears of hers. She'd realized how strong she really was on the inside when the breaking point came. She'd come into a deeper love than she could have ever had with Nate, even after they came together again.

Chuck didn't deserve her. _She knew it. She knew it. She knew it._ He didn't deserve and he wasn't going to get her. He had his chance, and he blew it – _more_ than once; several times. But she always came back for him. Even when she swore to herself she would never do it. In the end, having him was always worth the price she paid. _Had she become a doormat?_ It seemed unthinkable. Nobody was telling her to do this. She didn't take orders from _anybody_. Except her own damn heart. It was impossible to ignore.

Her heart had broken all over again when she'd seen the panicked look on Chuck's face and the tears failing to remain at bay in Jenny Humphrey's eyes, her mascara dripping down her face. The fury in Dan's eyes explained it at all. It looked as if Chuck had harassed the girl. Blair hardly knew if that was true. She didn't want to ask Chuck for the details. She wasn't sure if she'd believe his side of things anyways. The end result was the same. Still, here she was, back in his penthouse, staring into the freshly made up bed in his room and hoping he'd show up, so she could tell him she'd changed her mind.

_"I thought you didn't love me anymore."_

The sincerity and panic and helplessness in his intense stare, his raspy voice punctured her anger more than it had when he'd said it. It had been an _excuse_. A bad one, she had thought in the moment. _He could have thought up something better_, she'd told herself. Something more _convincing_. Now though, it hit her hard. He was an ass to give in to self-pity, end-of-the-world, I'd-be-better-off-dead sex probably only a half an hour after she'd failed to show. But, it hadn't meant anything – which she knew was also a poor excuse. And she had told him she wouldn't show, had been trying to seriously move on almost immediately after they'd officially broken up. The two of them had been so invested in each other for the last two years. Scotch and sex always temporarily mended Chuck's bleeding wounds. She'd thought he'd moved past that. She'd been wrong. His chasing after her was nothing more than it had been junior year, except that he'd been more considerate, more vocal, more…in her face. She didn't know if that meant he'd changed or he hadn't, but her heart excused it. Her heart was broken, crying and trying desperately to mend itself back together, but it couldn't. It needed its other half. It _needed_ Chuck.

"Blair?"

She spun around at the sound of his voice. He was dressed as he had been before, though he did look a little more loosely dressed around the edges. His bow tie was gone and a couple buttons were undone at the top. She wondered if he'd slept with someone else or just gotten wasted at some backend bar. Another dagger sliced through her heart at the thought of him being with someone else because she'd made to leave him for good, to keep him from ever associating with her again. He certainly deserved it, her mind reminded her.

"Chuck," she said, looking him straight in his lost hazel eyes. A silence ensued. "Have you been drinking?" He blinked. "Or—"

"No," he said, frozen to his spot. "Neither."

She swallowed hard, wondering how exactly she was going to continue the conversation, or even how she'd leave if she wanted to. She'd been dead set on finding him, and talking with him more about the latest update in horrific events of their relationship. They hadn't been together, not really. They'd been broken up. He hadn't been cheating, though it somehow felt like this was worse. If he'd known she was coming, he wouldn't have. She didn't know if these were good enough reasons to change her mind, but her broken heart was convinced they were. The logic that she'd pushed away all day, before she'd first made it to his penthouse, was even weaker now because she'd chosen to ignore it for nearly twelve hours.

"I, uh…" he began, when she said nothing. She blinked and shook her head.

"Right." She cleared her throat. "Chuck, I…" She looked up and saw the desperate, hopeful look in his eyes. She sighed, her heart clenching at the sight of him hurting. It almost made her hurt worse. "I think I might have made my decision…too soon after I heard…" she trailed off, not wanting to repeat the information. He searched her eyes desperately. When she looked back up at him, tears glistening in her eyes, she could see how much he wanted to touch her, how much he _wanted_ her.

"It was the heat of the moment," she continued.

"Blair…" was all he could make out. She didn't blame him. She wasn't really saying anything directly. "I don't…" he shook his head in confusion, briefly placing his hands around his forehead as if he were suffering from a migraine. "…understand," he finished, looking back up at her as his hand dropped back down to his side.

She nodded softly, pursed her lips, and then decided she needed to act. She took a few long strides towards him. His eyes widened, but he did not retreat. He didn't dare move a single muscle.

"I love you," she said, her heart beating fiercely on her sleeve. He looked like he'd forgotten how to breathe, and like he'd die if he couldn't kiss her – like he did when she'd confessed her love and allowed them to come back together earlier.

"But you hurt me," she said, her eyes dropping down to her involuntarily fidgeting hands. "A lot." She looked up at him, the glistening tears in her eyes dripping down the sides of her face. He felt like someone had punched him in the gut. He hated to see her cry. Even more when he was the cause.

"Why are you here?" he asked, following one long breathless moment. His expression looked like he was punishing himself a moment later. She wondered if he'd remembered how she'd demanded he not talk to her ever again.

She swallowed hard and daringly closed the distance between them. With shaking fingers, she took his hands in her own. An intoxicating heat overwhelmed her senses when she interlaced her fingers with his. She suddenly felt it very hard to breathe. Everything inside her was screaming to let go, but just as intensely needed her to hold on for dear life. She felt like she was dying.

She started to cry. It started off as mere sniffles and evolved into loud sobs, tears streaming down her face at full force. He had pulled her against his chest where he held her tightly to him. Her nails dug into him, like she was afraid to let go, like it would all get so much worse if she did.

"I hate you," she murmured against her jacket. "I _hate_ you, I _hate_ you, I _hate_ you." He sighed against her and kissed the side of her face. She didn't resist, just kept crying. "You hurt me so bad. I shouldn't be here. I hate you."

She was barely aware of him picking her up and carrying her bridal style to his bed. The sheets were clean, and he was glad for it. He wouldn't have stood for laying his precious Blair in sheets tainted by Jenny Humphrey – by one of his most untimely mistakes. He covered her where she lay and crawled in behind her, over the covers in case she decided to actually take action and abuse him. Not that he didn't deserve it. She turned towards him though, and ceased crying. A few sniffles and flooding tears still existed, but the pain now resided in her wide open eyes. They had been squinted or closed fully before, trying to avoid letting more tears loose. Now they were wide open, filled with pain, and somehow Chuck just knew it was because he wasn't as close to her as she wanted him to be. Wordlessly, he moved under the covers so he was directly next to her. As if given the cue, she suddenly grasped at him for dear life, her arms clutching tightly around to the back of his neck. She forced her legs between his and around his waist, pulling him tighter. He quickly caught on, helping in the effort.

"I don't…understand," he said again, once they'd been snuggled in their tight little maze for nearly an hour. He didn't know why he waited so long, but he gathered it was because he'd said the phrase already, and adjusting to the new position had required an effort in breathing as well. In hindsight, he realized his jacket and shoes had come off at some point, hers too.

Her head was tucked into the crook of his neck, her eyes closed, but he knew she wasn't sleeping. "…even if it takes you the rest of your life."

His eyes widened. An overwhelming joyous tension filled his body from head to toe as he thought back to his interrupted proposal. For some reason, his mind did not even contemplate moving on past the moment when he'd played with the velvet box in his sweaty right hand, breathed deeply and put his heart right out on his sleeve, Jenny Humphrey vanished from his memory. He did not think that now was a good time to finish his proposal though. If Blair's meltdown said anything, it was that she was so completely broken by what he'd done and she wanted him to know that. Her limbs clenched tightly around him though, also proved that being apart from him would be a thousand times worse than the punishment she'd doused on him as she left the Empire's lobby.

"Say what that means," he requested desperately, despite that fact that it was he who had originally said the words. She didn't smile or smirk or open her eyes, or kiss him. But she sighed softly and he found hope in that sigh. It didn't sound sad, or angry.

"It says that you love me," she said softly, knowingly. "And that someday that'll be enough." He felt on edge about that, thought that maybe in a movie it would have been the perfect last line, but he didn't know where that left them.

"Where does that—"

She propped herself up on her elbow and ran her hand through his thick hair. His eyes closed as she did it, completely intoxicated by her touch. She pressed her lips suddenly against his then, daring him to explore her mouth with his tongue. With how tightly they were wound together, the feel of her pushing up against him aided in a firm rising erection. He moaned at the feel of her and it set his tongue loose. Her hand crawled down his back and gripped whatever she could hold onto to pull him closer. A gaspy breath escaped her. Finally, her eyes darted back to his.

"You hurt me more than anyone else ever could," she said breathlessly. He searched her eyes desperately; sick of demanding the meaning to everything she said and did, but needing to know all the same. "But," Her face softened and she kissed him. He squeezed her hip gently. "It also means I can't live without this, without _you_…and we'll fix it." She sighed, resigned to contentment. "Together." She smiled.

He nodded, his gratitude and relief spilling out of his eyes and desperation on his face as he lunged forward and kissed her, pinning her to the bed as he moved on top of her, their limbs still so tightly intertwined amongst each other. Apologies tumbled out of his mouth as clothes were slowly peeled away; love confessions too. Acknowledgement that it wasn't unforgiveable, that he could have done worse, and that she'd allowed the rest of his life, because she loved him. That was how they made love – that was their make-up sex, their meant-to-be union. It was sensual and sacred and they cried. Because they were beautiful.

…

A/N: Hope you enjoyed. =) Don't know if I really brought across the point that I was trying to make, but hopefully I did somewhere in there. XD Review.


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